Lucas knew that meant there’d be a race for early bedtimes, which was probably what his LPO intended.
Chapter 20
‡
NICK AND MARCY arrived in the early dawn, stopped for breakfast, and then drove to Lucas’ apartment, the place he told them was temporary and shared with the other bachelors.
“This is going to be new for me too, Marcy. Never met Lucas before you came into the picture.”
“Do you know Connie?”
“Only by reputation. You’ve got your hands full.”
“Tricky part is getting someone else to keep the listing. I can’t in good conscience represent them. I mean, I could, but the appearance would be otherwise.”
“I totally get it. Devon has had similar issues.”
Marcy checked out Nick’s expression. “Not really,” she said with a teasing smile, followed by a wink.
“Oh, yes. She gets divorcing couples all the time. About half her business.”
Marcy had to laugh at how naïve Nick was, something she also saw in Lucas. Here he was this big tough guy and was completely blind to some personal things. “I think I went a little beyond where Devon has gone. I know her and she’d never do what I did.”
Nick blushed and would not look back at her. “Gotcha. Sorry. It didn’t even cross my mind.”
He set the black clothes bag on the floor near the front door. “Don’t know which is his room,” he added as he began searching the bedrooms for something that would indicate it belonged to Lucas. “You recognize anything?” he asked as he walked out of one bedroom into the next.
“Afraid not,” she sighed. “And I don’t know the other guys either.”
Marcy unzipped the duffel and pulled out clothes she’d added back at the cabin. Some of her underwear accidentally dangled from one hand in front of Nick.
“You need a bag,” he said, and pretended he’d not seen the unmentionables. Returning with a recycled plastic shopping bag from the kitchen, he continued not making eye contact.
Marcy loaded up and dropped the bag by the door. Then she walked slowly through the apartment. The living room couch and matching loveseat looked more than well-used and wasn’t anything she’d sit down on. There were nude posters in every room. Several hard-oiled women in handcuffs, blindfolds, and various states of mostly undress lined the walls of the guest bath.
A set of folding chairs sat around a small stained table in the kitchen. The rugs were brightly stained. The slider to the balcony overlooking the valley below was covered with handprints and a torn screen hanging on a bent frame.
Two of the bedrooms had cultures growing from half-eaten food or glasses. The kitchen sink was filled with four bowls with old cold cereal stuck to the sides.
“If I had a couple of hours, I could fix this place up,” she said.
Nick smirked.
Marcy continued. “And I’m thinking they’d hate it. Am I right?”
“With those guys? From what I understand, anything approaching domestic bliss would be totally off limits.”
“Okay, so what’s next?”
“I was thinking I’d get the equipment bag over to the Team building, but I’m detached, so I’ll have to get someone else to do it. Can you drop me off? I’ll stay there tonight and try to take a plane up to Santa Rosa in the morning.”
“Sure thing. Thought the whole team was with Lucas.”
“They have someone who injured his leg in a jump and didn’t go.”
MARCY SLIPPED BEHIND the wheel of Lucas’ truck and watched as the sandy-haired ex-SEAL hoisted the heavy weapons bag over his shoulder and resumed a path to his friend’s front door. He met another well-built young man with an ankle to hip cast on his leg. Marcy shook her head.
Am I ready for all this? She’d barely knew Lucas, and already she was running guns, cleaning up ransacked cabins, and riding in his truck with another SEAL she barely knew. And somehow, she was okay with it?
How my life has changed. With a heavy dose of apprehension, Marcy noted how fast her world had tilted on its axis. She waved goodbye to Nick and his friend like they were people she’d known her whole life. The day was already getting long and she needed a shower and an early to bed.
But first, she had to face the wife of the man she was screwing.
THE CORONADO BAY Realty office was on a corner in the neighborhood of expensive designer boutiques, high-end burger bars, vegetarian restaurants, art galleries and espresso coffeehouses. Marcy had always enjoyed working at the attractive, highly-visible, upscale office, unlike some of her other realtor friends. Many of the agents there didn’t need the income and worked there just to hobnob with local celebrities and wealthy businessmen. It was also known far and wide as a great place to pick up a wealthy second or third husband for singles or soon-to-be singles, either male or female. She was one of the few who did not have all the cosmetic surgery to make themselves into sufficient eye candy.
Their lobby was decorated by a designer regularly featured in Architectural Digest. Imitating an abandoned villa in Tuscany, broken pots spilled water fountains and colorful beds of flowers decorated outside the entrance doors. The lobby featured a large, textured steel waterfall, giving a serene and peaceful effect, like a high-end spa. Bird calls and a Tuscan orange room scent piped into the air ducts drifted around the reception and waiting area.
Today, none of those things did anything to cheer her mood.
Gail Burnett, married to the famous wide receiver, Barry Burnett, was the first to greet her. She had been chatting with the young receptionist, her long, tanned form outfitted in a white designer suit. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and back like spun gold. As she turned to face Marcy, her eyelids closed slightly. She licked her lips and tilted her chin up. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. On another day and under different circumstances, she would have been someone Marcy could enjoy spending time with. But as a competitor, she was a feral cat used to successfully taking down lions.
Gail was all the wrong kinds of dangerous.
“There you are, sweetie.”
It always annoyed Marcy when someone only a few years older could take on the aura of a critical parent.
“Hi, Gail.” It was always wise to give the realtor what she wanted. “You look terrific today.”
“And you look like you’ve just come from a demolition derby.” Gail winked at her, making it overly obvious she didn’t really mean the comment.
Except she did.
“Just got back from up north.”
“Yes, heard about your interesting road trip.” Gail checked her nails and then fluffed her hair.
Marcy wondered why her broker would have disclosed this little factoid. She put it out of her mind. “How’s everything around here? Keeping busy?”
Gail smiled. Marcy held her breath.
“Can’t complain. Barry’s in Detroit, so I’m actually getting some work done.”
Marcy figured Detroit wasn’t the shopping destination Chicago or New York or even Atlanta would be. “Well, good. I’ve got some catching up to do myself,” Marcy answered. “Let me get settled, and then could you and I have a little chat in the conference room?”
The receptionist, seated behind the curved bamboo counter, tore her eyes off her computer screen and shot a worried glance at Gail’s profile.
“Sure thing, Marcy. Kind of wanted to talk to you as well.” The fetching smile she used on her best clients looked dangerous.
“Give me about five. I’ll meet you there.”
“You bet.” Gail turned and continued her conversation with the receptionist. Her skirt could not have been any tighter, revealing she wasn’t embarrassed to show she wore thong underwear.
Several minutes later, Marcy and Gail stepped into the warm bisque-themed meeting space. A mural of vineyards and tiled roof spires perched atop rolling hills was painted along the long wall. Marcy sat at the head of the table, laying down her listing information and several other forms she�
��d dug out.
Gail had a thin file folder she held in long tapered fingers accented with pearlescent polish. Her open-toed sandals made small scratching sounds as she took up her place on Marcy’s right, and sat.
Marcy looked at the painting before her and took in a deep breath as if she was vacationing in the little Tuscan village, not staring at a plastered wall. Her nervousness was uncharacteristic, but then, there were so many things she hadn’t fully thought out. Normally, she liked to calculate every move in this chess game of real estate sales. Now she was trying to execute a retreat with her job and her pride still in tact.
It was not what she was used to doing.
“Gail, I’ve taken this listing for a house on Apricot Way, and—”
“Connie and Lucas’ house. I know it well,” Gail interrupted.
“Good. Well, I’ve decided I’m going to refer their listing, and wanted to know if you’d be interested in taking over for me.” She didn’t spell out that normally there would be a referral fee shared between the agents, and just decided to let the implication stand, without bringing attention to it.
Gail hesitated a couple of seconds, tapping her fingernails on top of her file folder, as if she was considering a move she wasn’t sure of. Her surgically plumped lips pulled back, without a wrinkle, into a thin line. Her eyes were able to give more expression. “Your timing is pretty good, Marcy.” She opened the folder. “Because I got this letter from Connie earlier this morning.”
She handed the sheet of paper across the table. Marcy read:
‘To: Marcy Gelland
I hereby request that you withdraw my listing at 442 Apricot Way, San Diego, California, immediately. I no longer wish to be represented by you.
The letter was signed by Connie Shipley and dated this morning.
Marcy sat back and waited for the other shoe to drop.
“You know we’re always trained to give the client whatever they want, Marcy. I didn’t solicit this, not in any way.” Gail watched her words sink in. “Marcy, she wants me to represent them. Connie feels there’s a conflict of interest.” Gail’s eyes got hard and cold. No smile lines appeared on her flawless face.
Marcy was going to sidestep the elephant in the room, hoping she wouldn’t have to bring it out into the open. Instead, she decided, again, to give Gail what she wanted.
“Well, Gail, I agree and have no objection to this. Like I said, I wanted to—”
“And I’m not paying a referral fee, Marcy. Don’t you think it’s a little beyond that anyway?”
“Fine.”
“Really?” Gail made a point to raise her eyebrows and bat her big green eyes with the eyelash extensions.
Marcy didn’t want to press a fight. If all this could just go away, she’d be fine with the lack of income. She didn’t have Barry Burnett’s income as backup, but she was the top office producer and could absorb the cut in pay. What was more valuable than the commission earned was her standing in the office, especially with her broker, Joe.
She pulled out a Change Order form and began to fill it out for Gail, when they heard noise coming from the lobby. Marcy had just signed her name to the form when Connie Shipley appeared at the conference room door, her left hand splayed as she slapped the glass, her wedding ring making the metallic tapping sound. She was holding the baby in her right.
Marcy didn’t realize Gail had locked the door, so when Connie began yanking on the burnished copper handles, the rattling sound shook most the nearby walls. Connie’s face was shriveled in anger. “You let me in there, right now. Where the fuck is Lucas?”
Gail stood to unlock the door, but before she could get there, Connie continued with her tirade.
“Release me from your fuckin’ listing contract or I’ll tell the whole world you’re fuckin’ my husband!”
Even through the thick glass, Connie’s voice was loud and menacing, but not nearly as loud as Marcy knew it was to the whole office. It would be impossible for anyone present to miss Connie’s accusations.
So much for a clean exit.
Chapter 21
‡
AFTER DINNER, THE music began. Jake was the center of attention, often dancing with three or four soccer players. He kept encouraging Lucas to join in, but Lucas was preoccupied with the reveal Jake had given him about Connie, and he worried about Marcy and how she was doing.
He slipped into the bathroom and tried to text her, but couldn’t get a signal. In the old days, he’d have been mixing the margaritas and making sure everyone had a generous helping of alcohol, but this time they’d only bought a limited amount and that was mostly beer. He started a list he’d be going over tomorrow when he and Coop paid the visit to the contractor and the shopping trip planned for afterward.
A coed poker game was in full swing. Lucas was normally right in the middle of the action, but his somber attitude prevailed.
Donna Grant wasn’t participating in the alcohol, the dancing or the cards. She took a seat next to him and toasted his beer with her mineral water.
“You got a girl at home, Lucas?” she asked. The lady was probably five years his senior, but he’d seen lots of relationships with older military women and the young SEALs. It gave them a problem sometimes with the other branches of service they had to work with closely.
“Complicated, but yes,” he answered her. If she wore a little makeup, she’d be pretty. He noticed she had a barbed wire tat around her left wrist. Her hair was cut short, but was shiny brown. With her large brown eyes, she had a classic look and would be stunning if she wanted to be. That had him curious.
“What exactly does that mean?” she asked, without looking at him.
“Means my wife’s divorcing me, and I recently found a girlfriend.”
“Can’t live with them and can’t live without them, that right?” she answered.
Lucas rolled his shoulder and cracked his neck. The loud noise had her wincing and even caught the attention of a couple of the card players. “That sounded painful. You better get that checked out.”
“I’m fine. You?”
“I like the travel, and I prefer working with men on the job.”
Lucas pegged her for being perhaps sweet on women. He nodded, not bothered one way or the other.
She smiled to her shoes. “I like men all right, Lucas. I’m just more of the best friend kind of person. Don’t much care for chasing after the steamy romance, if you know what I mean.”
No, he didn’t know what she meant.
“Sometimes, Donna, it just comes to you. Sometimes you don’t have to chase after it at all.”
“That happen to you?”
“Sometimes,” he answered.
“So that’s what happened to your marriage, then?”
“No. That’s not what I meant. I’m not like that, although my wife—” He stopped himself until the alarms in his head stopped screaming. “All that was before I got married. My wife is the one who found and chose me.”
Donna peeled her gaze from the poker table and looked at him honestly. “And here I would have thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“The woman always chooses, my friend. That’s why you guys have to wait. When you’re single, that means no woman has chosen you yet.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the tone of her implication. She was complicated. Secretive. That was a dangerous combination.
“I still say you be patient. It will happen for you. You just wait and you’ll see.”
“Great advice, but I’m afraid it doesn’t really apply to me.”
“But you are looking?”
She rocked her head from side to side. “Everybody looks, Lucas. I apologize, but it’s a long story. It’s not that I’m into ladies, I just have issues with men.”
“Except you like to work with them?”
“I know, sounds nuts, doesn’t it?” She smiled and he did think she was pretty. “You trying to pick a fight?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t f
ight with women.”
She giggled and said something under her breath that sounded like a swear word. “Long story, my frog prince, and I don’t know you well enough.”
He decided to add a little levity into the conversation, since he was getting a bit uneasy with her secrets, not that he had any right to them of course, but he was used to being direct and forthright, answering and asking questions. He thought he’d just push a little to see if he could crack that tough exterior. “I don’t have to worry about you taking a knife to my throat late some night, right? You’re not one of those?”
She showed him her white teeth again in a grin. “Only if we’re forced to sleep in the same bed and you snore, which I can already tell you do, so give it up, sailor, and leave me alone.” She stood and walked away, still looking like an athlete slowly departing a basketball court or a track somewhere. He realized she was probably way stronger than he’d given her credit for.
And lethal.
EVERYONE TURNED IN before nine o’clock, with the exception of the group going with Kyle to the top of the hill.
“I’m good if you need me, Chief,” said Lucas.
“Sure you’re just trying to get out of cleaning up? But if you want to tag along, be my guest. You got your FLIRs?” he asked, meaning the SEAL-issued forward-looking infrared goggles.
“Roger that.”
“Okay, you still up to the shopping trip tomorrow with Coop?”
“Fuckin’ A, Chief.”
Kyle and Danny led the team back through the woods. With their thermal gear, they saw eyes of forest animals such as fox, raccoon and deer light up and move quietly out of their path. The sky was cloudy, which was good for visibility. The moon was over half full and very bright.
Lucas was amazed how much easier it was to see the outline of the lone sentry with the equipment they brought. They would be back up as time permitted on other nights, just to verify the single guard was not an anomaly.
Kyle directed Danny and Armando to position themselves higher than the sentry to give the rest of the team cover in case they were discovered. The rest of the team took the best clear vantage point nearly twenty yards below the sentry so they could get a closer wide-angled look.
SEAL Brotherhood Lucas Page 12